


Music and the Mirror (and the chance to dance with you)

by mystrangedarkson



Series: Sanders Sides Ficlets [13]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancer!Roman, Dancer!Virgil, Dysphoria, Light Swearing, Love at First Sight, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sympathetic Deceit, Trans!Virgil, accidental misgendering, dance class au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystrangedarkson/pseuds/mystrangedarkson
Summary: It had been five years, and Virgil was finally ready to dance again. The last thing he expected was Roman and that goddamn tongue piercing.





	Music and the Mirror (and the chance to dance with you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look I'm not dead! :D  
> This was supposed to be a 1.5k quickie, but, well, clearly that's not what happened lol  
> I hope you enjoy it! <3

 

_If I don't do this now, I never will, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life._ Virgil took a deep breath, staring at the cursor blinking in the empty search bar. After a few minutes and a significant amount of emotional effort, he searched for 'adult dance classes'. Almost immediately, the screen was full of dance studios offering classes, and he had to breathe through the knot of anxiety that formed from the sheer number of options. He scrolled past ballet ( _I couldn't do ballet back when I was in shape_ ), hip hop (I _'m not nearly confident enough for that_ ), and tango ( _No way I'm getting that close to a stranger_ ), but none of them felt right. It had been so long; if he made the wrong choice, it would destroy what little confidence he had, potentially stopping him from ever dancing again. _That's a bit dramatic_ , the small, logical part of his brain insisted. _Dancing is part of you; it's in your blood. You could never give it up forever. You're here now, after everything that happened._ That voice, however, was drowned out by his anxiety. Until he saw it.

**Beginner West Coast Swing! No experience or partner needed. 8-9pm Tuesdays. $18 drop-in, $45 all 3 weeks.**

_West Coast Swing. Perfect. Upbeat and energetic, but not too technically demanding at first, and half the fun is in the tension held in the space between partners. And it starts tomorrow, so there's no time to chicken out._ He followed the website's registration process, signing up for all four weeks. It's only four hours over the course of the month, he figured. Even if it went horribly, he'd gotten through worse.

After registering, he quickly shut his laptop and went to dig out his old dance shoes. _Hopefully they still fit; a lot has changed over the last five years._ They did, just barely.

-

_Tuesday_

 

Virgil walked into the studio at 7:55, his heart pounding. Immediately, he was greeted by a very tall man, likely in his early thirties, with a clipboard in one hand.

"Hello, and welcome! I am Logan Sanders; I own the studio. Are you here for west coast swing?" Logan stuck his hand out.

"Uh, hi, nice to meet you. My name's Virgil." Virgil shook his hand. "Yeah, I registered online yesterday." Logan checked the clipboard, and looked back up at Virgil.

"Wonderful, I have you right here. Follow me, your class is going to be held in the Blue Room." Virgil followed him through a huge room with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and through a door off to the side. Silently, he thanked whatever deities that might be listening that the class wasn't in that room and prayed that the Blue Room would have fewer mirrors. Fortunately, it only had a few mirrors on the far wall; it was clear that they would rarely, if ever, use them. "Alright, here we are. Have fun, and please do not hesitate to let me know if there are any issues." Logan gave him a small smile and adjusted his glasses before practically gliding out of the room. _That man did decades of ballet; I'd bet my life on it._

Virgil slunk around the fifteen or so people who were milling about on the dance floor waiting for the class to start. Once he got to a bench in the corner, he changed into his dance shoes and reluctantly took off his hoodie. Instead of joining his classmates on the floor; he took this opportunity to observe them. They were largely what he expected, most of them looked to be between twenty-five and thirty, with the exceptions of himself, at twenty-two, and a couple who were probably around sixty.

"Good evening! My name is Patton Sanders, and I'm your west coast swing teacher! Alright, let's line up; leads to my left, and follows to my right."

Virgil froze. He hadn't considered if he'd rather lead or follow. He felt the teacher's eyes on him, however, and had to make a decision. Something in his gut told him to follow, so he fell in line to Patton's right. He immediately noticed that there were more follows than leads, and briefly chastised himself for choosing wrong. Fortunately, Patton's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I see a bunch of familiar faces tonight; thank you so much for coming back! Your focus this month should be on moving beyond the basics. Focus on your posture, your technique, and your styling." Patton looked at all of his students, giving them all a blinding smile. "New students, thank you for joining us! West Coast Swing is incredibly unique. Unlike most other ballroom dances, what really matters is the energy and elasticity between partners, and each partner is given far more independence than in other styles. But listen to me, getting ahead of myself," Patton giggled. "None of that matters if you don't know how to move your feet! Okay, let's start with the leads." Patton walked them through the basic step, giving Virgil a chance to assess his future partners. The dance snob he used to be scoffed; he was not impressed with anything that he was seeing, but some of them seemed to have potential. Reminding himself that he won't be good at this at first either, he focused on the leads' basic step and constructing the most likely follows' counterpart.

"Fantastic, now ladies, your basic is very similar," Virgil flinched. In the excitement of starting to dance again, he'd forgotten about his wide hips, and he didn't have a binder in the right size to exercise without potentially causing a lot of damage. _Just dance, Virgil. Remember how it all fades away. Focus on the steps, so you can build a foundation strong enough that you will be able to leave everything but the music behind._ Virgil did just that, quickly picking up the step.

"Awesome! Okay, let's partner up; I'll put on the music and come dance with y'all who don't have partners." Virgil was one of the two follows without a partner, and he stifled a laugh when "Madness" by Muse started playing through the speakers. _It probably does seem kind of mad, doing this alone._ Patton called out "5, 6, 7, 8!" and they all started moving. Virgil did his best alone, but it wasn't long until Patton took his hand and started leading. Virgil only then realized that his posture had been terrible. He straightened up and looked Patton in the eye, and he thought he saw approval there. They danced for a little bit longer before Patton gave him a thumbs-up and went to turn off the music.

"That looked really great, you guys. That's officially all the time we have, but I'll put some music on for a bit longer if any of you want to hang around and keep dancing!" Virgil wanted to stay for a while longer. It felt so good to be dancing again, to feel that powerful and confident, but he saw himself in the mirror and practically ran to put his hoodie back on and change his shoes so he could leave. When he got to the door, he hesitated and looked back, but he quickly turned back around and went home, deciding to not risk getting misgendered again and ruining his post-dance elation.

\--

The next week, Virgil approached Patton after class, heart hammering in his chest.

"Uh, Patton? Can we talk for a minute?"

"Of course! Virgil, right? What's up?"

Virgil looked down, afraid of what he might see in his teacher's eyes. "My pronouns are he/him. I know I don't look it, but…." Virgil hesitated, not sure how to finish the thought, "yeah. He/him."

"Oh, my! Thanks for letting me know! I won't misgender you again." Surprised, Virgil looked up to see a smile on Patton's face. "By the way, what's your dance history, if you don't mind me asking? You clearly have a whole bunch." Virgil hoped his blush wasn't as strong as it felt.

"Um, it was pretty much all in high school. Dance classes for PE credit, danced in all of the musicals, and I took some jazz classes outside of school. Haven't danced since graduating, though." Clearly Patton read between the lines; his face softened, but it was with understanding, not pity, as Virgil had feared.

"Well, whatever happened back then, welcome back. You've got a lot of talent, and I'm excited to see where it takes you, if you choose to stick with it. See you next week, kiddo!" Virgil thanked him and left, head held high.

-

The following class passed without incident. Virgil learned and grew as a dancer immensely, and, when given the opportunity, he signed up for the next cycle, excited to learn more. Nothing could have prepared him for that next class.

\--------

The class started completely normally. Virgil arrived, put on his new dance shoes, and waited for Patton to start the class. He was so wrapped up in mentally reviewing the patterns from the previous weeks, he didn't notice that there were new students until Patton had them partner up and someone took his hand.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Virgil Raine is very, very gay. He had had his fair share of Gay Panic moments, but none of them compared to what happened in Virgil's head when he made eye contact with the stranger holding his hand. He was shorter than Virgil, with curly black hair and eyes like brown enstatite that sparkled with confidence.

The stranger gave him a blinding smile. "Pleasure to meet you; I'm Roman."

"V- Virgil." He was amazed that his voice worked, and he thanked every deity he could think of that Patton cut him off, giving the class a pattern and counting them off.

Virgil stood tall, more confident in his abilities to dance than to talk to Roman, and then they started _moving_. Virgil's biggest struggle in west coast swing was the concept of connection, of creating and maintaining the elasticity that is a fundamental part of the dance. With Roman, however, the connection was instant and perfect. As Roman led him through a left-side pass into a whip, he felt _alive_ in ways he hadn't in years, especially since Patton hadn't said anything about doing a whip. He knew it was cliche as hell, but he could have sworn that the rest of the world stopped existing- for those short minutes, all that existed was him, Roman, and the music.

All too soon, however, the music stopped, and the spell was broken. Virgil stepped back, painfully aware of how much he was blushing.

"Looking good, y'all! Leads, rotate, and let's do it again!"

Roman winked. "Thanks for the dance, stormcloud," he said before turning and walking down the line, not giving Virgil a chance to respond. Stunned, Virgil took his new partner's hand and went through the pattern by rote, too distracted to pay attention to connection or styling.

The rest of the class passed in a similar fashion- Virgil trying to keep his cool and not look at Roman too much. They were partnered once more before class ended. Neither of them said anything, but the connection and energy was even more intense, if anything, and Roman's flamboyant styling left Virgil reeling. As soon as class ended, he put his headphones on, turned his music up, changed his shoes, and left. He felt a pair of eyes on him as he left the studio. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted that feeling to be correct.

 

Once he was safely out of the building, he texted his best friend, Declan.

**[Emo]:** askfkaldjsl there's a really cute guy in my west coast swing class, and he can Dance. By far the best dancer in the class who isn't the teacher. Extra as hell, based on two interactions. I'm literally too gay to function help

**[Snek]:** Gay panic is so pure

**[Snek]:** Fuck YEAH dude

**[Emo]:** Helpful as always, D.

**[Snek]:** You know I just call it like it is. So are you gonna make a move, or just write another fanfic that basically is just a self-insert about what could have been if you weren't a coward?

**[Emo]:** Hey, I only did that ONCE, and I didn't even finish it, let alone post it.

**[Snek]:** *raises an eyebrow* are you sure about that?

**[Emo]:** Okay, twice, and yeah I posted that second one. But it wasn't even really a fic, just a list of ideas that developed something like a plot.

**[Snek]:** So….? What are you gonna do about this unnamed hottie?

**[Emo]:** Play it by ear. Two more weeks of class gives me two more weeks to gather information.

**[Snek]:** No comment on not knowing his name?

**[Emo]:** Damn i was hoping that'd slide by. It's Roman.

**[Snek]:** Good strong name. Maybe I'll show up and take a shot at him

**[Emo]:** *hiss* Fuck off he's mine. Besides, you have someone. Someone you still refUSE TO TELL ME ABOUT, BITCH

**[Snek]:** Love you too <3

 

Virgil closed his phone and drove home, in desperate need of a shower and a good night's sleep.

\--

Virgil walked into the studio, head low with his hood up and headphones playing louder than was safe for him or the electronics, but he didn't care. What mattered was quieting the voice in his head that had been saying _'Why would he look twice at you? You're a mediocre dancer at best, and you know he's misgendering you in his head. You know from experience how few people want to date trans guys. Wrong parts for gay guys, wrong gender for straight guys. Putting yourself out there would be a disaster'_ for the last week. _I'm here to dance_ , he reminded himself _, not to flirt._

 

He quickly got to the Blue Room and changed his shoes, not bothering to take off his hoodie or headphones until the last possible minute- nothing calmed his nerves like Gerard Way not being okay either. When the time came, he reluctantly shed his armor and took his place in the line of follows.

Class began as normal; a brief review of previous lessons and a few warm-up patterns. Virgil kept his attention on Patton or his current partner. While this strategy kept his eyes and mind (mostly) off of Roman, it meant that he was entirely unprepared when it was their turn to dance together.

"Virgil, right?" Roman asked, eyes still infuriatingly bright.

"Yep. What's up, Roman?" Virgil smirked, surprising even himself. Patton counted them off, but that didn't stop Roman from responding as they went through the series.

"Ah, you can speak! I'm doing fabulously. And you?"

"Fine. Just trying to learn, _princey_." To Virgil's surprise, Roman was silent for the rest of the dance, and didn't say anything before moving to his next partner, either. _Shit. Good job, Virgil. Why did you even call him that?_ Figuring there wasn't really anything he could do about it, Virgil tried to put it out of his mind and keep focusing on Patton's lesson.

As in the previous class, he danced with Roman one more time, right at the end. The pattern was complex, and the music was fast, so there wasn't any opportunity to talk until after the music stopped and Patton dismissed the class.

"Thanks for the dances, Roman. You're a great dancer." He turned to leave, not wanting to stick around for small talk.

"Wait, Virgil!" He turned around to see a look on Roman's face that he couldn't quite figure out. "Why'd you call me 'princey'? How did you know?"

Virgil furrowed his brow, confused. "Know what? Dunno where the nickname came from, you just kinda carry yourself like you think you're royalty or something."

"You really didn't know that my last name is Prince?" Roman looked up at him, incredulous.

"I swear I didn't. While we're on the topic of nicknames, why did you call me 'stormcloud' last week?" Virgil was surprised to see Roman look down and fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"Your hoodie. It has that purple stormcloud on it. And your energy isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows."

Virgil chucked. "I didn't think you were that observant. See you next week, _princey_." Virgil smirked.

"Looking forward to it," Roman responded. Well, Virgil _thought_ that's what he said. His brain short-circuited when Roman said 'looking' and revealed a silver stud in the middle of his tongue.

Completely unable to speak, Virgil turned and hurried to his stuff, shoving his headphones in his ears and changing his shoes as fast as possible. He didn't even take the time to put his hoodie back on before practically running out of the studio to his car.

 

**[Emo]:** 911 HE HAS A FUCKING TONGUE PIERCING I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I WAS INTO THAT

**[Snek]:** Who, roman? Oh shit. I distinctly remember you telling me once that you definitely *aren't* into tongue piercings. Damn you are SO WHIPPED. This guy must be a fuckin Adonis

**[Emo]:** I'm not whipped. He just really is that hot. And sassy. And observant. And funny.

**[Snek]:** …

**[Emo]:** ah, fuck. I really am whipped. But I think it might not be one-sided. You know how terrible I am at flirting?

**[Snek]:** Whatever could you possibly mean? Being a sarcastic ass is peak flirting. *Everyone* knows that.

**[Emo]:** No need to be a bitch about it. Anyway, I unintentionally did a whole bunch of it, and he gave it right back. Maybe even better than I did?

**[Snek]:** Boy that's your fuckin soulmate. If you really pulled a You as a first conversation and didn't scare him off, hold the fuck on to him

**[Emo]:** you know I hate it when you do that. And yeah, I don't plan on letting him go. Next week is the last week of the class. I'll ask him out after. That way, if he rejects me, we never see each other again. No harm, no foul.

**[Snek]:** Solid plan. I gotta go- date night. Talk later?

**[Emo]:** You gotta tell me who this mystery person is. It's been *months*, and I still don't know anything about them.

**[Snek]:** About whomst? Significant other? I don't know her.

 

Rolling his eyes at his enigmatic friend, Virgil drove home.

\----

 

The next week, unlike previous weeks, he walked into the studio, head held high, not wearing headphones. He had a plan and the confidence of a man with nothing to lose.

 

Virgil danced through the class better than he ever had before. As usual, he was partnered with Roman a few times, but aside from a brief greeting, neither of them said anything, but Virgil thought he felt a silent conversation between them as they danced- a meeting of two souls consumed by a love of dance.

 

Before he knew it, class was over. He took a moment to collect his thoughts under the guise of changing his shoes before looking around to find Roman. When he did, his heart stopped. Roman was in the middle of the dance floor, gliding effortlessly through what appeared to be an argentine tango. His partner was about Virgil's height, with sharp, high cheekbones and a flawless jawline. He couldn't see their eyes; they were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses. What really made Virgil's stomach knot was the fact that their styling was likely in violation of public indecency laws- the two of them clearly knew each other intimately. Blinking away tears, Virgil grabbed his things and ran to his car. He went to text Declan and saw that he already had a message from him.

 

**[Snek]:** So how'd it go, loverboy? When's the date?

**[Emo]:** There won't be a date. He's with someone. A gorgeous someone. I didn't know an argentine tango could look *that* much like sex on the dance floor.

**[Snek]:** Oh shit, Virge, I'm so sorry. Do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks, and I will totally kill him for you.

**[Emo]:** thanks, but no. I can't fucking breathe, D. Why the fuck do I always do this? Why can't I feel things a normal amount? Why do I let my heart run away like this?

**[Snek]:** I could give you a smartass answer about your childhood traumas, but the bottom line is that it's because you are a deeply good and caring person. The fact that you choose to see the best in people despite everything you've been through is incredible, Virgil. Now, get your cute butt home. I'll meet you there with ice cream, and we're gonna watch Nightmare Before Christmas and talk it out, okay?

**[Emo]:** Give me half an hour to get home and showered. Love you <3

 

Ten minutes later, Virgil unlocked his front door and turned on the light.

"Well helloooo, Virgil," a familiar voice drawled.

Virgil let out a scream that neither man knew he was capable of. "Declan you sack of shit I'm going to fucking murder you. My internal organs have had enough stress today, thank you very fucking much. I said half an hour."

"I know you did, but I also know you. Right now, you're spiraling into self-loathing, and the easiest outlet for that is dysphoria. I would be a terrible friend if I let you suffer through that alone."

"I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna psychoanalyze me." Virgil cocked an eyebrow, his heart rate returning to almost normal. "Are you offering to shower with me?"

"It's not psychoanalysis. It's just knowing my best friend and his self-destructive tendencies. And no, I'm not. I'm just here for emotional support. We both know that that smart brain of yours likes to tell you all sorts of lies, and-"

"And you're a human polygraph. I got it. Thanks, Dec. I'll be back out as soon as possible. Make yourself at home- you know where everything is." Virgil turned and walked towards the bathroom.

"Easy on the hair product- it your hair is full of goop, it'll fuck my eczema up, so I won't cuddle you!" Declan called out after him. Virgil flipped him off, but they both knew that he would not only eschew hair products but also use the eczema-friendly body wash they both pretended he hadn't bought just so they could cuddle more comfortably for Declan.

Fifteen minutes later, Virgil returned to the living room. He expected Declan to make him talk through the storm that was going on in his head, but instead they watched movies and joked around all night. The only talk of dancing that night was Virgil confirming that he would not give it up for anything, let alone some guy, no matter how cute.

\--

Virgil had been so wrapped up in thoughts of Roman, he missed why the following week's class was a one-day workshop instead of a new cycle, but he figured it didn't really matter. He was there to dance, logistical semantics be damned.

His resolution to stick with the classes no matter what was immediately tested when he entered the ballroom and saw Roman on the floor dancing with the same man from the previous week. _At least it's west coast swing this time_ , Virgil mused as he changed his shoes and tried not to stare. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Patton started the class.

Unfortunately, it also wasn't long before Virgil and Roman were partners.

"Hello again, stormcloud!" Roman said as he began leading Virgil through the pattern.

Virgil nodded curtly. "Roman."

"What's with the attitude, Edgar Allen Woe?" Virgil told himself he was imagining the hurt in Roman's voice.

"We're here to dance, not chit-chat." Roman tried to lead Virgil through a turn, but he tripped over his own feet. Because Virgil was in the middle of that turn, he was thrown off balance as well. In an instant, both men were on the floor, Roman on top of Virgil.

"Well hello there," Roman laughed.

"Get. Off. Now." Virgil shoved Roman off of him and scrambled back to his feet, praying that his blush wasn't as scarlet as it felt. The blush was, of course, completely from the embarrassment of falling in front of the class and had nothing to do with being underneath Roman.

 

Patton, fully aware of the tension between the two dancers as well as Virgil's shyness, quickly grabbed the class' attention and moved on with the lesson. Patton showed mercy on Virgil and prolonged the time between partner rotations to keep him from having to dance with Roman again. _I hope those kiddos work out whatever's going on between them, but they can't do it during my class time._

 

For the rest of the hour, Virgil kept his head down unless absolutely necessary and tried to learn as much as possible, but he just couldn't focus. Remembering how close Roman was with flecks of gold in his eyes and clearly as muscular as Virgil had imagined had him grateful for the first and only time that he wasn't assigned male at birth- the situation would have been far more awkward than it already was if there was even the slightest possibility of a boner to deal with.

 

Eventually, the class ended, and Virgil hurried out of the studio as per usual. This time, however, he was followed. He was barely out of the studio when Roman called after him.

"Virgil! Wait! Please!"

Virgil turned to face him, anxiety about this conversation manifesting in anger. "What do you want, Roman?"

"A date with you." Roman's shoulders dropped, and he suddenly seemed very interested in his shoes.

"W- what?" Roman stood tall and looked Virgil in the eye.

"Will you go out with me? I know you felt what I did when we danced. Before tonight, I mean. Please, go out with me, let's give that energy a shot off of the dance floor." Virgil's eyes flashed with hope, want, and caution.

"What about your boyfriend?" Virgil spat.

"What are you talking about? What boyfriend?"

"I'm not an idiot, Roman. Tall, sunglasses, dances with you with a chemistry I've never seen before? WHAT?" Virgil snapped, when Roman started laughing.

"That, Virgil, is Remy. My best friend. My best friend who agreed to pick me up last time and come with me today to help me _show off for you_. We've been dancing together since we were eight; of course we have damn good chemistry. But that connection is _nothing_ to what I felt when we danced that first time. We have something special, Virgil. Please, tell me you felt it too." Virgil stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"I- I'm not good with words," he whispered, gently tilting Roman's head up and leaning down so that their lips were almost touching. "Yes, I felt it too." Virgil searched his face, looking for discomfort. "Can I kiss you, Roman?"

Instead of responding, Roman lifted onto the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to Virgil's. After a split second of shock, Virgil deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Roman's torso and lifted him to his height. He quickly put him down, however, when they heard a wolf-whistle and a "WHOOP!".

Embarrassed, Virgil and Roman looked to see Remy and Declan standing at the door of the studio, smiling and laughing.

"I told you not to sweat it, girl. I couldn't tell you how bad my boy has it for yours, because he made me promise not to tell anyone, but look at that." Remy winked at Declan.

"Yes, and this _totally_ wouldn't have been easier if we just told them how the other felt, like I _definitely_ didn't suggest weeks ago." Declan rolled his eyes.

Virgil looked at the two of them suspiciously. "You two know each other?"

"Obviously, babe. Who do you think D's been seeing all these months?"

Virgil turned to Roman. "Did you know about this?"

"I mean, I knew Remy was seeing Declan, but I had no idea he was your friend. You know what this means though, right?"

"What does it mean?" Virgil asked, apprehensive.

"The most epic double dates of all time!" Roman punctuated his proclamation with a flourish. Virgil, Declan, and Remy all let out a groan.

 

The four men swapped numbers as needed and parted ways with promises to see each other again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading, and every click/kudos/comment means the world to me.  
> <3 I love you all


End file.
